


Only A Paper Moon

by Decepticonsensual



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shockwave can't dance.  Soundwave is stubborn.  Tremble at this glimpse into the secret lives of two terrifying Decepticon warriors.  (Rated for mentions of sex; no warnings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only A Paper Moon

Their favourite place is the back of Shockwave’s lab, where Shockwave has set up a remote communications console so that Soundwave is able to stay longer when he visits.  Shockwave loves to watch his partner work:  those needle-like fingers flitting over the keys with breathtaking grace, Soundwave’s visor bathed in the glow of images that fly past too quickly for thought.  Shockwave has only seen Soundwave dance on a few occasions, most of them before the war kicked off in earnest, but the way his hands and feelers move at times like these is _like_ a dance.  And sometimes, he catches Soundwave watching him in turn, as Shockwave delicately drips a new chemical agent into a solution, or bends to check the gauges on the gestation tanks.  Shockwave knows he is a graceless, lumbering thing, powerful but not beautiful.  It has never bothered him; that would be illogical.  And yet, when Soundwave turns all the intensity of his silent attention on him, Shockwave can almost forget what he is.

Work is sacrosanct, of course, for both of them.  It would not do to distract each other… but when their shifts of duty end, and everything important is squared away, all bets are off.  Sometimes, it begins with a playful feeler snaking forward to curl around Shockwave’s waist, its wriggling tendrils teasing his hip joints.  Other days, Shockwave gets there first, tracing those glowing biolights with the tips of his claws.  Soundwave shivers in his grip and lolls back against him, his slender body almost liquid, held up by Shockwave’s arm.  Their couplings can last for hours.  They’re both fiends for new information, and if a temperature reading or a scrap of recorded conversation can fascinate them, how much better is it to find out about the dark flush that can creep over the ends of Shockwave’s antennae, or the way Soundwave’s feelers whip through the air when overload hits?

One day, Soundwave switches on music, and wraps those elegant hands around Shockwave’s hips, swaying his own enticingly to the beat.

“I am not capable of dancing,” Shockwave tells him gently.  “Even if I had the necessary instruction, I am not built for it.”

– _Built for it –_ Soundwave plays back stubbornly, trailing his fingers from Shockwave’s hips, down his legs, and back up to linger over the curve of his aft.  He gestures to himself.  – _Instruction –_

Shockwave vents, shaking his head.  The image of a tank trying to maneuver through the steps of a dance in the arms of a sleek flyer… but Soundwave is looking up at him eagerly, the single line across his visor rising and falling in time with the music.  “Very well.  I defer to your expertise.”

He knows he looks ridiculous, at first, but what kind of scientist lets a fear of seeming foolish keep him from learning?  And soon, with no one but his mate to see, Shockwave forgets to feel awkward.  He memorises steps and sequences with mathematical precision, and is elated when he sees how much this pleases Soundwave.  Still, Shockwave wouldn’t say that he’s fond of dancing as such.

But feeling Soundwave melt in his arms, their bodies wrapped around each other, moving as one – _that,_ he will never tire of.


End file.
